


Where God Used To Be

by wraithsonwings



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Boat Sex, Canon Compliant, Episode: s02e05 There But For the Grace of God Go I, Fanfic gap, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, POV Marcus, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithsonwings/pseuds/wraithsonwings
Summary: After their kiss on the boat, what if Marcus decided to stay just a little bit longer?





	Where God Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [fragile-teacup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Gene_Hunt/pseuds/fragile-teacup) for the beta, even though they've never seen the show. So, yeah, any character or canon errors are my own.

 

 

“I should get back.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Peter… thank you.”

 

They froze a moment, just breathing, in the still night. Marcus tried again.

 

“I mean it… truly. I don’t experience many quiet, beautiful things. The stars in the sky. The sound of the water. That haunting bird song. I’ll never forget it. Thank you for sharing your slice of God’s creation with me.”

 

“Yes, it is beautiful.”

 

Peter’s hand cupped the side of Marcus’ face and Marcus didn’t think he was talking about the night. He sighed, leaning into the touch.

 

_I need a sign, please._

 

“Are you leaving because you’re ashamed?”

 

“Why would I be ashamed?”

 

“You’re Catholic?” Peter teased.

 

Marcus laughed.

 

“I haven’t cared about what the Church has to say about that for a long time.”

 

“Seems like a strange tack to take… for a priest, I mean.”

 

Marcus shrugged.

 

“I’m a vessel for God’s grace. If whatever thoughts I have about men made me impure, I wouldn’t be able to do my job. So I follow God, not the Church... but I haven’t felt Him in weeks. I don’t know how to move forward.”

 

“Perhaps God intended for us to meet, for me to help you?”

 

“That’s a job you really don’t deserve.”

 

“I have seen death, and horror, and can spot a man who’s seen them. You won’t scare me away, Marcus.”

 

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I will leave. I always leave. It’s the nature of my work. It’s my nature. The Church points and I go.”

 

“I thought you’d left the Church?”

 

“Excommunicated.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“But that’s beside the point. God points and I go… or He will… eventually.” _I hope._

 

“Well, until then, why don’t you stay here tonight? We can talk beneath the stars. Something tells me you rarely open up the way you did earlier. I have beer?”

 

“Maybe just one. And I share more often than you think. It’s remarkably effective at chasing people away.”

 

“Yeah, I know. It’s an old trick of mine.” A sad smile. “Your horrors will never trump my curiosity about you. I want to see what’s beneath them.”

 

“What makes you think there’s anything to see?”

 

“You escorted a frightened girl to her new foster home. There’s love under there.”

 

Marcus leaned close, pressing his lips to Peter’s, to quiet him. He couldn’t hear these things. He kissed him to thank him, again and again, parting his lips to tease with his tongue. Marcus hadn’t been this hungry in years, hadn’t needed or wanted... no, _lusted_.

 

_Was this how he’d fill the gaping void deep inside where God used to be?_

 

Marcus tightened his hold on the back of Peter’s head and, cupping his neck, he brushed along his jaw. The beard was soft under the pad of his thumb.

 

Peter grabbed tight to Marcus’ hips, a strong grip as though worried Marcus would flee. Marcus groaned. This he understood. He took a step back. He wanted Peter’s hands to bruise him, trap him. Peter chased instead, stepping closer, dragging his hands up Marcus’ back. He could barely feel him through the leather of his jacket. Peter kissed him back, tasted him.

 

Marcus dragged his hand down the front of Peter’s jacket. The cotton was soft under his fingers, comfortably worn. He hooked a finger in the top of Peter’s trousers and gave a small tug. Peter shifted even closer with a low hum that Marcus could almost feel as he sucked at his tongue. Marcus ran his fingers around the cold metal of Peter’s belt buckle before grabbing his crotch, cupping him in his hand. He was hot through the cloth. Marcus squeezed him gently and ran his fingers along his length, getting a feel for him, stroking him through his trousers. Peter clutched his shoulders, holding him fast, and Marcus softly squeezed the back of his neck. He rubbed him harder, faster, and the moment Peter let out a gasp, Marcus took over the kiss, exploring. He bit at Peter’s lips, licked them, licked past them. Peter opened to him, inviting him in, and Marcus swept into that heat.

 

The hand on his aching cock made him jump and a choked laugh escaped. He buried his face in the side of Peter’s neck, kissing apologies against his skin, as he took the roaming hand in his own and placed it on his hip instead.

 

“Marcus…”

 

“No, just let me… please.”

 

“Okay.” Peter’s other hand came to rest on Marcus’ ass. “Whatever you want.”

 

“It’s just…” _I don’t know what to do. “_ I want to watch you, hear you, feel you. Please, Peter…”

 

“Oh fuck…”

 

Marcus went back to sucking bruises along Peter’s throat while slowly unzipping his fly. The metal was cool compared to what he found when he slipped inside. His cock was hot beneath soft cotton as Marcus felt for the fly of his underwear and he groaned against Peter’s neck when he found a wet spot. He squeezed the head then stroked back down the shaft, sliding the damp material along his length. Peter’s low hum dissolved into a moan when Marcus found the gap in the fabric and finally touched him skin to skin. Peter’s throat bobbed beneath Marcus’ lips before harsh breathing echoed in his ears as Marcus jerked him off, his hard cock heavy in his hand. Peter crushed Marcus’ hip, his ass, when he came; wet and hot against Marcus’ wrist. Marcus purred against Peter’s skin, felt the racing pulse beneath his lips. Peter’s arms wrapped around his back, hugging him close as he placed kisses in his hair. Long moments passed enfolded by Peter, who rocked him gently. Marcus still held his soft cock in his hand.

 

He blinked free of his daze and, taking a step back, he straightened up. He pulled his hand free of Peter’s trousers and wiped it on his own jeans. He just stared at the wet smear on his thigh, his own cock aching, trapped. Marcus forced the desire down, locked it away with practiced ease, and turned his full attention to the lovely eyes that looked at him like he was special. He could feel the blush across his cheeks. Peter spared him by dropping his gaze to fix his fly, and when he zipped up it was with a grimace.

 

“I haven’t come in my pants in years.”

 

“Me neither. The Church was quick to beat any such behaviour out of us boys.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize for them. The Church was what it was. I guess it still is what it is. We often disagreed, but it didn’t matter because God always had my back. I really should be going.” He smirked. “Thanks for the beer.”

 

Peter’s laugh chased the sorrow from his face and Marcus smiled.

 

“Maybe we’ll actually get to that drink next time. Are you certain I can’t do _anything_ for you?”

 

“Quite.” He ran his hand over his head. “Thank you.” He cupped the side of Peter’s face. “I mean it.”

 

“You deserve good things.”

 

“Not in my experience…”

 

“Marcus…”

 

He interrupted with a soft kiss.

 

“But maybe in my future.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and any kudos or comments you may leave.
> 
>  
> 
> Join me on [Tumblr](https://wraithsonwingsposts.tumblr.com/)!


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